the sensible thing. If I’m really a murderer, the police won’t let me go. And if you’re wrong, you’ve just made a dumb, forgivable mistake. The only thing I’d ask is that you get some counseling.”
“Nice try,” Jordan said.
But Leo moved toward him and took hold of his arm. He pulled his friend away from their captive, toward the dust-covered washer and dryer. “What he’s saying makes sense, Jordan,” he whispered. “Let me drive over to that grocery store and call the state police. If this guy’s really a killer, then they’ve got him. And they have you as a witness….” He trailed off because Jordan was shaking his head. “What? What is it?”
“I need to talk to him first,” he insisted. “I need to get a confession out of him.”
“Well, how are you going to do that?” Leo asked. “Do you plan to
Jordan put his hand on Leo’s shoulder and leaned in close to him. “After he killed my mother,” Jordan whispered, “the police and this special Mama’s Boy task force had me look at all these books full of mug shots. They were hoping I might identify the guy who took her. Like I told you, I was eight years old, Leo. My mom was just murdered, and I was sitting there in this crummy police station, poring through hundreds of photos of criminals— rapists, sex offenders, and murderers. But I didn’t find him in those books. I never saw that man again, not until today.”
“Goddamn it!” the man bellowed. “Get me out of here…. Please!”
“Shut the hell up!” Jordan snapped at him.
“I still don’t understand how you can be so sure he’s the one,” Leo whispered.
Jordan took a deep breath and then leaned in closer to him. “I heard him talking to my mother—very friendly at first. But then he hit her, and he called her a bitch. Even though I was pretty far away, I could hear him. I pissed in my pants, Leo. I was so horrified—and helpless. Earlier today, while I was in the store,” he nodded toward the man, “
“Then let me go call the state police,” Leo said.
“No, what I need you to do is keep Moira away,” Jordan insisted. “She could be back here any minute now, and she can’t see this. She can’t be a part of it. Drive her in to town, drive her home, I don’t care what you do. Just keep your girlfriend out of here. I need some time with this scumbag.”
Leo hesitated. He was afraid of what might happen if he left Jordan alone with the man.
Jordan rubbed his shoulder. “Like I told you before,” he said under his breath. “I know everything there is to know about Mama’s Boy. I’ll catch him in a lie. I’ll get a confession out of him.”
Leo pulled away. His eyes wrestled with Jordan’s. “And then what?” he asked. “What are you going to do with him then?”
Jordan stared at him and said nothing.
They both already knew the answer.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
If any hikers had been roaming around that sloped section of woods, they might have noticed a pale grey object moving back and forth, hovering just above the ground. They might have heard a young woman crying for help.
But Moira had a feeling no one was around for miles.
She’d found part of a tree branch in the pit. Shedding her heather-grey sweater, she’d tied it to one end of the branch. She’d tried to stand up, but felt a sharp, grinding pain whenever she put her weight on her left foot.
So Moira leaned against the dirt wall of the pit. Even with her arm stretched above her head, it was still at least three feet from her fingertips to the top of the narrow trench. Her arm was tired from endlessly waving the makeshift flag over her head. Plus she had a cramp in her one good leg from standing on tiptoe for so long. All her screaming had left her throat sore and dry.
Moira had checked her wristwatch a few minutes ago: 2:30. She’d been stuck in this godforsaken pit for over an hour now. She’d tried several times to climb up the dirt walls, but her foot kept giving out on her. And there was nothing to hold on to—except fistfuls of loose soil and rocks.
The dark, dank hole smelled. In just her T-shirt and jeans, Moira shivered from the cold. She still had dirt in her mouth and in her nose, too. Mud, twigs, and God only knew what else had gotten tangled in her hair. She would have killed for a glass of water—and a couple of Tylenol. Every part of her body ached.
Every once in a while she heard a car in the distance driving along the road up ahead. Yet, obviously, they couldn’t hear her screaming for help.
Moira also detected some noises in the woods—and not just birds chirping. She’d heard bushes rustling and an occasional scurrying sound. She figured it was wildlife in the forest, but she yelled out for help anyway—just in case.
Her arm was getting numb. She lowered the crude banner, then rubbed her shoulder and shook her arm to get the blood flowing again. She told herself that Leo and Jordan would start looking for her soon. They’d find her before sundown. She just had to hang in there.
She felt something crawling on the side of her neck. She let out a shriek and frantically swiped it off. Moira shuddered. She didn’t see what kind of bug it was, but she figured there were more of the same down in the bottom of this smelly pit.
She heard high-pitched squealing in the distance, and she looked up at the patch of sky above her. At first Moira thought it was a flock of birds squawking. But then she recognized the sound as it got louder, more distinct. She listened to the same racket every day between classes in the hallways of Holy Names Academy. It was the sound of several girls—all talking, laughing, and screaming at once. Right now, it was a wonderful noise.
Moira quickly hoisted the makeshift flag and waved it above the edge of the crater. “HEY!” she screamed. “HELP ME! PLEASE, HELP ME, I’M TRAPPED!”
The din grew louder, and Moira guessed there were several girls—probably in an SUV or a small bus. Obviously, the windows were open. They had music booming. They were all talking over each other. It sounded like a party.
Moira kept screaming for help and waving the stick. She forgot about her ankle for a second and jumped up. When she came down on her foot again, the crushing pain shot through her leg, and she fell on her side amid all the mire and mud at the bottom of the pit.
The laughter and music faded, and Moira started crying. She picked up her sweater and saw that the branch she’d been using as a flagpole had snapped in two.
She had no idea how long she sat sobbing—and praying to God to get her out of there. But after a while, Moira wiped her tears with her sweater. Then she put it on. She was still shivering, but it was an improvement.
As she started to push herself up again, Moira felt something hard and bulky under her hand. Brushing away some dirt and dead leaves, she saw a blinking red light at the top of a device that looked like a clunky old answering machine. “What the hell?” she murmured. It felt heavy when she picked it up. Duct tape covered the back of it. She held the thing in the light and brushed some more dirt off it until she could read the printing across the side: SPY- TELL 300 MOTION SENSOR.
It confirmed what she’d thought when she’d first fallen into the pit. Someone was setting a trap here. Did the blinking red light mean somebody close by was picking up the signal on this device? They had to be in the vicinity. A small, portable thing like this couldn’t have much of a range.
Moira wondered if a hunter had created this trap. But what kind of lame-ass sportsman would catch his game this way? Trap some creature in a pit rigged with a motion detector, and then come shoot it—if the poor animal hadn’t already broken its neck in the fall? Yeah, that was really sporting. It didn’t make sense.
She stared at the blinking red light on the device. If this was a lazy, dilettante hunter’s trap for killing game, Moira shuddered to think that she might be sitting in dried animal blood. With reluctance, she felt around for shell
